The Younger Man

by Foster, Zoe

  As daylight savings was in full and glorious swing, the sun was still languorously lighting the sky, and an almost-full, very bright moon was creeping up to thieve the position of prominent sky feature. Abby flopped down onto the top step, as she had done many times in the past, usually alone, but sometimes with Marcus. Alessandro delicately hitched up his jeans, confirming his no-sock-loafer policy, and sat down next to Abby.

  ‘Jeeeeez, what an amazing night … look at that moon! Oh, we’ve really turned it on for you, haven’t we? And look, if you peer through those buildings over there? You can see the bridge.’

  ‘The one I see from my hotel room all day?’

  Abby punched him playfully in the arm, and as she turned to him, he grabbed the back of her head gently and pulled her in for a kiss. They kissed, dreamily, lovingly, pathetically, pent-up, for several minutes, Alessandro’s hands sliding down to her thighs, hinting at all kinds of mischief. When he slipped his hand underneath to her panties, Abby pulled back, smiling like the boozed fool she was.

  ‘Alessandro!’ Cut that out. I have neighbours, you know.’

  ‘Then we can bow at the end.’ He kissed her amorously on the side of the neck, gently pulling her closer to him at the small of her back.

  ‘Come on, let’s have that cigarette,’ Abby said, resuming her most enjoyed and best-suited position of flirty sexual warden.

  ‘I love to kiss you,’ Alessandro said, looking at her with the eye equivalent of a boner.

  ‘Why, thank you. Tell me, Alessandro, did you really come all this way to see Federico?’ Abby couldn’t resist.

  He paused, taking a drag of his cigarette.

  ‘I missed you, Abby. I like that you have your work and you don’t need me. It suits me. If I were to see you every few months, that would make me very happy.’

  Abby was sure there were some authentic feelings in his bizarre and mildly offensive comment, but it seemed to be overshadowed by his love of efficiency and the desire for a casual relationship. Surprisingly, she understood where he was coming from. Perhaps that was the way to go: get on with your life and career and then have an intensely romantic fling four times a year. It didn’t exactly smack of romance, but there were worse options for two busy people who were fond of each other.

  ‘Spend summer with me, I can take you to the islands, we will get the boat.’ Another Italian summer; that could be a beautiful idea … It could become an annual thing, she thought. And if he came over here again in a few months for a week, is that so bad? On the other hand, while Abby felt very tender towards him right here and now, with her insides bubbling with wine and the knowledge he was leaving tomorrow, did it have legs? Was it worth enduring the deprived gratification and annoyance that accompanied a long-distance relationship, even if it were a loose one? She looked at his face, his light eyes, and the lips she had become rather attached to. She could do a lot worse.

  Maybe it was the lifestyle that appealed to her, the fantasy, the luxury, the terrific sex and the lack of Real Life hassles. She didn’t know. Abby had a gnawing feeling their relationship report card would read: Good on paper, terrific potential, exciting and engaging, but lacking authenticity and feeling. Needs work. B–.

  ‘Let’s just be in the present for now,’ Abby said, kissing him quiet.

  The present was beautiful. To wish to be anywhere else would be criminal. Abby kissed him lightly on the nose, then on the lips and then leaned her head against his shoulder and took a deep breath in. He put his arm around her and pulled her in close. Whatever this is, it’s nice, she thought. I am a lucky woman.

  41

  U miss him already, don’t u. Did he offer to fly u over??

  Do miss him a bit, yes. And yes, he did offer. Might even go! Imagine that.

  Abby was feeling gloomy that Alessandro was back in Italy. He’d already followed up about flying her over in a few months, but Abby had been too busy to confirm or deny or even decorously hold him off. On the flip side, she couldn’t stop thinking about how weird and defensive she’d felt when Alessandro had noticed Marcus’s razor in the shower the other night. Still she couldn’t bring herself to chuck it out.

  Have u fired your bunny boiler business partner yet?

  No. Told her I was sick and not to come in last few days while I sorted everything out. But am about to unleash all fury.

  Good. fucking nutjob. Kid practice with Olly here all wknd – come over pls xc

  Abby took a deep breath to calm down and mentally filed through everything bubbling away in her brain. She’d barely slept last night; she was that horrible blend of wired but tired, which meant there was little slumber, and when it finally came, it was filtered through many stresses. It was legit, though: she was about to confront Charlie about what she’d been up to: her very own Events and Promotions company, called – how original – Charlie’s.

  She opened up a folder in her inbox marked ‘Charlie’ and began printing off the emails and attachments within. She had to hurry; Charlie was due in twenty minutes to ‘collect some uniforms’ for an event that night, at which she would probably try to convince both the client and the girls to ditch Allure for her own seedy side-project.

  With great thanks to Rob and the new, very efficient IT guy at Webra, her grand You’re Busted moment (tolerated but not advised by Rob) consisted of a neat manila folder Abby had poisoned with the words ‘Join Charlie’s! The newest agency in town!’ that held the twenty-seven applications potential girls had made to Allure while Abby was overseas, which she’d asked Webra to find, because nothing was ever really deleted in cyberspace. Then there were the emails she’d received from some of those girls when she’d emailed them asking to come in for a meeting, saying that ‘Charlie had already been in touch,’ or that, ‘Am signed to Charlie’s now, thanx anyway! Xx.’

  There were also emails from Charlie to Rob, advising him that ‘unfortunately’ CashCard were looking for another agency, but she was ‘too anxious’ to tell Abby, and would he? Also she’d requested the current Allure financials, and history of Abby’s longest-standing clients. There was also the email Charlie had sent to Diane at Tag, telling her that she would be their sole point of contact now and that, because some clients deserved extra special attention (‘Like yourself, obviously, Di!’), she was now heading up a boutique sector of Allure that they were casually referring to as ‘Charlie’s’.

  Finally, and most damaging, was the correspondence from Abby’s contact at Grey Goose, who had forwarded her the emails between himself and Charlie. The emails had enticed him away from Abby and Allure with the promise of even better girls, at a better price, if he just dealt with Charlie privately. Charlie had even done a few jobs for him, making sure to use girls who’d never worked for Abby. It made Abby shiver with fury.

  She put everything into the folder and left it on Charlie’s desk, furnished it with a post-it note asking that Charlie leave her keys and all Allure tools of the trade in the office and to leave immediately. She was going to add something about ‘or legal action would be taken’, but didn’t even really know what that meant, it just sounded scary. She gathered up her laptop and handbag and left the house, trying not to think about all the work she had ahead of her with Charlie out of the picture and no other staff. Not to mention having to explain to all her clients and girls what had happened, and trying to get them back. Of course, if they did leave her for Charlie, well she didn’t want them anyway. No, she definitely did, actually. But it sounded tougher the other way, and she’d be prepared to fake it until she fell in a heap.

  It was a phenomenal turn of events, Abby thought as she drove down her street aimlessly, with nowhere to go and nothing to do except wait for Charlie to discover she’d been discovered. She was angry with herself for being too caught up in her personal life and travel to see what was going on, and for allowing such a virus to infect the business she’d worked so hard to create. Abby had thought she was a pretty good judge of character. But then Charlie slithered in and ruin
ed all of that with her shady backstabbing and revolting business thieving.

  Abby desperately needed to drink something strong and sedative. As she drove through the streets, trying not to feel too glum, she also began to crave a cigarette. Filthy habits for a filthy day.

  The sun was shimmering in the sky, a spectacular sunset was about to take place, and Abby couldn’t help thinking, in her exhausted, mildly melancholy state that she should be enjoying it somewhere with Marcus. His appreciation and dedication for the landscape, the sky, the sea had always inspired Abby. She wondered if he was still with his cougar, if he was travelling, if he’d moved on from the rockabilly look to ski-chic or butcher style or whatever the people in Brooklyn whose music and fashion and blogs he so admired were doing now.

  In an instant, Abby knew where she should head for the hour or so she had to fill. And if she happened to take a cider and some cigarettes with her, what of it?

  Half an hour later, Abby had nervously parked her car on what looked like a very illegal shoulder of a major freeway, determined to remember the exact way Marcus had showed her to get to his lush little oasis. There was another car, an old Toyota 4WD parked there: was it a ranger? Or a car full of deros drinking rum from brown paper bags? She looked down at her own brown paper bag and smiled to herself sheepishly. There was bound to be someone else up here on a night like tonight, she figured, walking gingerly towards the old gate. It was breathtaking.

  As she hopped over the old fence and came into the clearing her suspicions were confirmed, there was a couple sitting on the grass fifty metres away, hugging their knees, their backs to Abby as the faced the impressive view. They’d definitely thieved the primo position, in fact it was almost the same spot she and Marcus had laid, but there was enough space for everyone.

  As Abby walked towards them along the teeny dirt path, she watched as they stood up and shook off their picnic blanket. Terrific! They were leaving; she could enjoy a contemplative hour up here alone. As they came closer, Abby noticed the boy was wearing a hat just like Marcus’s. And was roughly the same height. And had cuffed jeans, which was Marcus’s staple. And had Marcus’s face. And was Marcus.

  Abby’s body was rooted to the earth, unable to do a thing. Why wasn’t his car parked up there on the shoulder like a warning beacon? Jesus! He hadn’t seen her yet, but if Abby turned around and ran off to her car now, he’d definitely know it was her. Oh fuckfuckfuck, Abby screamed internally, why do I have to run into him now, of all days, of all places, and he’s with a WOMAN. A bit of a daggy one, to be honest … Abby ran her fingers through her hair and furiously swallowed the small amount of saliva that had kindly decided to stick around. She’d have to face him. There was no other option. Fine.

  Marcus was mid-conversation, about ten metres away when he finally looked up and saw who was standing in front of him. His face went blank and his girlfriend followed his gaze to Abby, trying to piece together what the big deal was with this strange blonde up ahead.

  Marcus’s left hand shot up to his face in embarrassment. That was weird, Abby thought; after all, it was his secret little spot and Abby was intruding, if anything, he should be pissed off.

  The couple got closer and closer, and Abby saw that a faint smile had fallen over Marcus’s face.

  ‘Well, what have we here? Abby Vaughn, sneaking into my little secret headquarters with her dirty little longneck of VB …’

  Abby smiled nervously, clutching her brown paper bag in close to her chest.

  ‘I’m sorry, I just, I swear I haven’t been up here since, well, since you showed it to me,’ she dropped her head respectfully to Marcus’s date, who she was sure was loving watching this little scene unfold. Abby shot her a warm smile and stuck out her right hand. Goodness, Abby thought, she was a bit old, even by Marcus’s standards. Very fit, tanned, and with a face that was undeniably beautiful, but still … She must be the one Charlie saw him with. Abby’s brain computed it all in nanoseconds. Wow. So they were really on, it seemed. Breakfasts … romantic secret city lookouts … If nothing else, at least Abby now knew she was about twenty years too young for him. Such a dog move for Charlie to tell her that, she reflected. Bitch.

  ‘Hi, I’m Abby.’

  A look of understanding washed over the woman’s face.

  ‘Abby!’ She cupped Abby’s hand with both of hers and shook it warmly, smiling deeply into Abby’s eyes as she did so.

  ‘I’ve heard so much about you.’ The woman looked at Marcus, her eyebrows jammed up as far as possible, still holding and shaking Abby’s hand as she did so.

  ‘Uh, you can probably let her hand go now,’ Marcus said.

  The woman dropped her hands quickly and giggled. Abby noticed she had a few beautiful silver pendants around her neck, and a stack of woven bands around her wrists. So she was an ‘Earth mother,’ was she? Probably all into tantric sex and incense and buckwheat.

  ‘Tell you what, I’m going to head back to the car to make this call I’ve been meaning to make all day. I’ll see you back there, Cussy, and don’t rush.’

  Cussy? Jesus. What the hell kind of nickname was that, Abby thought as she smiled broadly to the woman and watched her dart past towards the freeway, her shapely calves strapped into leather sandals, and her small silhouette faintly visible under a simple, green cotton dress.

  ‘She seems nice.’

  Marcus laughed obviously. ‘She is nice. She’s the best. I can’t believe you two finally got to meet, and up here of all places.’

  ‘Marcus, look I’m glad you’re happy, Charlie told me you were seeing someone, but why would we want to meet each other? That makes no sense.’

  Marcus folded his arms defensively, his face utterly confused.

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  Abby sighed. Why was he being so piggish? This didn’t need to be a fight.

  ‘Your girlfriend? I assume she was the same one Charlie saw you with in a café a while back.’

  Marcus’s hands flew to his cheeks, slapping them loudly as they made contact. ‘Oh, this is magnificent. You think that woman is my girlfriend?’

  ‘Well, we both know you like older women.’ Abby crossed her arms and looked out to the view, her upset building. She’d been looking forward to that cider for hours, but never more than this exact second.

  ‘Abs, that woman gave birth to me. That’s Gayle!’ He laughed uproariously, his head flipping back at the sheer hilarity of the situation.

  Abby pursed her lips, flushing violently red from her chest to her scalp. On one hand, she was ecstatic that Marcus wasn’t in love with a woman who had a tattoo of a dolphin on her arm, and on the other, she was furious that she’d messed up her first meeting with Marcus’s mum.

  ‘Damn,’ she uttered quietly.

  ‘I can’t wait to tell her, she’ll be ever so flattered—’

  ‘Please, don’t – it’s creepy. Jesus, Marcus: why didn’t you introduce her as Gayle! I would’ve figured it out then!’

  ‘I kind of like that you were jealous, now that I think of it.’

  ‘Jealous, pfft. More like nauseated. No offence to your mum.’

  ‘Charlie tells me you’re dating a silverback yourself, so you’re not exactly in the best position to judge …’ He was looking at her not with teasing eyes, but questioning, is-this-true eyes.

  ‘What do you mean “Charlie tells me” – how often do you two catch up, exactly?’

  ‘Nice segue. I don’t know, I guess we email a bit, run into each other at Capelli’s sometimes?’

  ‘Email: why?’ Abby’s face was crumpled in confusion.

  ‘Uh, because I’m helping her with the site for your new agency, obviously? It’s cool, she told me you didn’t want to deal with me and I get that.’

  Abby let out a frustrated groan and covered her eyes with her free hand.

  ‘Whoa-whoa-whoa, what’s going on?’

  ‘I cannot fucking believe that girl! I don’t have a “new agency”, she’s been steal
ing my clients and my girls! AND she’s been fucking emailing you to create a site for all of it!’

  Marcus frowned, ‘Really? That doesn’t seem like Charli—’

  ‘Don’t even finish that. You won’t believe the shit she’s been up to. She’s a fucking lunatic. I’m sorry, I have to open this, I’m at risk of cardiac arrest.’

  Abby opened the brown paper bag and pulled out the cider, twisting the lid furiously in order to open it, before cutting open her finger and realising it was not, in fact, a twist-top after all.

  ‘Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck.’ She sucked her finger, and Marcus stepped in and took the bottle.

  ‘Still as patient as ever, I see. Give me that, you gorgeous little dunce.’ He took out a bottle opener that was attached to his keys, and flipped it open.

  ‘Sit for a moment. Come on. You’re all worked up.’ Marcus sat down with his legs out in front of him in the grass and motioned for her to do the same. Abby sighed and sat down next to him, a million murderous thoughts careening through her brain. Why had she been so elegant about her dismissal of Charlie? She should’ve set her fucking car alight.

  ‘Sorry, I just, it’s full on, you know? I’ve never been done over before. And I hate that she was emailing you, and that you thought I’d told her to, and oh, just, it all sucks a bit, basically.’

  Abby swigged hard on the cider, gulping down the sweet fizz.

  ‘She did seem a bit rattled when I showed at your place, now I think of it.’

  ‘My place? What, when?’

  ‘Ages ago. Few days after we had that friendly chat at Alfie’s. Ohhhhh …’ A look of understanding washed over Marcus’s face.

  ‘She didn’t tell you, did she?’

  ‘No. She did not.’ Abby’s teeth began involuntarily grinding against each other.

  ‘I also dropped over some of those David Austin roses you love the other week – she never told you they were from me, I’m assuming? I guess it doesn’t matter, as long as they made you happy.’